


Shopping Trip!

by cherryjam (blueskull)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Double Dating, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Lalafell Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Modern AU, Shopping, but there are no wols
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:00:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27099265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueskull/pseuds/cherryjam
Summary: This is supposed to be a so-called “double date”, but as far as Alphinaud is concerned, it is merely a regular one. Between Laurelis and Illya.Haurchefant and Alphinaud simply happen to be there at the same time. Or at the very least in their general vicinity.
Relationships: Alphinaud Leveilleur/Warrior of Light, Haurchefant Greystone/Warrior of Light
Kudos: 4





	Shopping Trip!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afflatussolace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afflatussolace/gifts).



> Illya belongs to [afflatussolace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afflatussolace).

This is supposed to be a so-called “double date”, but as far as Alphinaud is concerned, it is merely a regular one. Between Laurelis and Illya.

Haurchefant and Alphinaud simply happen to be there at the same time. Or at the very least in their general vicinity.

The taller elezen doesn’t appear especially bothered by this; he bears his burden of an already concerning amount of bags with unprecedented grace and decorum.

“They look like they’re having fun,” he says with an easy smile once he notices the white-haired elezen glancing toward him. Alphinaud clears his throat.

“I -- yes, I...suppose that is one of the words...that could describe them.”

Laurelis stands in the middle of one of the clothing stores, a veritable pile of dresses thrown over the nearest rack, clearly selected for the lalafellin girl fidgeting demurely in front of her. She holds her most recent pick -- a pale turquoise ruffled dress -- in both hands, holding it out near the shorter girl’s shoulders.

Whilst Illya looks only somewhat uncomfortable with her predicament, the miqo’te has a somewhat pinched, pensive expression as she stares at younger girl and garment with narrowed eyes. Then, abruptly and apparently satisfied, she gives a tiny nod and gently folds the dress before placing it on the ground beside her.

“Don’t I need to try that on first...?”

“Nope! I know you’ll look adorable without even putting it on!” Laurelis’ smile is bright and infectious; even Illya can’t help but let her lips upturn despite her misgivings. “But this...” The pink-haired woman’s voice trails off as she pulls yet another dress from the small pile she’s amassed. “I’m afraid you _will_ have to try this one on.”

She holds it up to Illya briefly, before allowing the lalafell to take the dress from her. It’s a light, checkered thing; Alphinaud can’t make it out clearly from this distance, but it seems to have something frilly or lacy at the front.

After a mild “argument” ( _”Are you sure this isn’t too much?” “Nonsense! There’s never too many cute clothes!”_ ), the lalafell retreats to the dressing room, defeated, dress in hand.

Perhaps it’s understandable that she should feel anxious. The vast majority of the bags Haurchefant holds contain clothes and shoes...for Illya, after all.

This scene had been repeated numerous times in other stores, with but one exception that had occurred exactly _once_ and then never again, though the memory still causes the hair at the back of Alphinaud’s neck to spike in unease.

Illya had hesitantly peered out of the dressing room, violet eyes glimmering with discontent; she only finally pulled herself out with effusive and exuberant encouragement from her best friend. The sight that greeted the pale-haired elezen had nearly stolen his breath away: the dress Laurelis had chosen for her was the perfect colour and cut, brilliantly highlighting her features and, at the same time, making her look somehow even more lovely than she had mere minutes ago.

His silence had not gone unnoticed. Whilst Haurchefant had quickly offered his own praise, Alphinaud had merely been struck speechless and tongue-tied, as if somehow turned to stone. And the miqo’te had wheeled toward him, eyes narrowed, fluffy tail twitching only once.

“What do you think, Alphinaud? Doesn’t she look beautiful?”

Alphinaud had thought he could catch a hint of an uncharacteristic sharpness in her gaze -- a subtle glare that looked utterly unnerving on the miqo’te. He had cleared his throat, finding the words he needed to curtail his execution rapidly surfacing despite his initial floundering.

“O-of course. She looks beautiful -- absolutely stunning.” He most certainly did not stutter.

The pink-haired woman’s expression had transformed into a beam that could very well rival the sun. “Fantastic! I knew you’d like it.” Giving a tiny, gleeful clap, she had levied Illya with yet another dress, and the bone-chilling moment had passed as if nothing untoward had ever happened.

Alphinaud still occasionally feels somewhat cold, for no discernible reason.

As Laurelis fawns over the assortment of clothes she’s uncovered for Illya to wear and try on, Alphinaud finds his mind wandering. If this is a shopping trip -- and so it appears, as opposed to an actual date -- he may as well do some shopping on his own.

It appears Illya is well and covered in the _clothing_ department, so he supposes there’s room for him to buy something else...

Like, he thinks, as his gaze roves over a nearby store, _jewelry_. 

Illya, being quite modest, doesn’t often afford herself the luxury of pretty trinkets. Almost never, really, and certainly really nothing expensive.

Well, expensive for _her_. To him, and to apparently the pink-haired miqo’te, it may as well be a drop in the ocean.

The black, lacquered sign gleams at him under the skylights as he approaches. _Genuine crystal bouquets_. Perhaps not quite _jew_ elry _,_ as he’d initially assumed, but some sort of trinket nonetheless. And certainly nothing Illya would look even twice at.

She does love flowers, however. What ever would be better than an undying, beautifully cut, and vibrant bouquet? Far more than a simple collection of fake flowers...

Or so that’s what he thinks as he peers into the small shop. Behind locked cabinets and displays of glass are numerous attentively arranged crystalline flowers. Some are simply made of nondescript crystal; others, more ostentatiously priced, are labelled to be carved of gemstone.

He’s drawn almost immediately toward a composition of lilies, sparkling in the light. The price on the card beside them would undoubtedly make his girlfriend faint.

“Looking to buy, sir?” The elderly gentleman behind the counter hones in on him almost immediately, attracted by the crispness of his shirt and the stitching of his tailored coat. Evidently the man can smell the bottomless cards stowed away in his pockets. 

“Yes, I -- I was wondering, might I have a look at that lily bouquet up there?” Alphinaud gives a nod toward the glass shelves behind the counter. The shopkeep pulls out an assortment of keys from his pocket and begins fiddling with the locks.

“I feel like I shouldn’t even be here.” The light, airy comment nearly startles the long-haired young man out of his skin; he turns slightly to see his other companion, Haurchefant, joining him, bags in either hand. “Are you getting that for Illya?” He leans forward slightly as the older man brings the delicate bouquet down before them, allowing them both to look at it.

“Yes. I think it’s very beautiful. It suits her, don’t you think?” Alphinaud gently brushes a finger along one crystalline petal. It would look quite pretty on her nightstand -- perhaps away from any windows, lest anyone less savoury see it.

“It _is_ very pretty -- ” Haurchefant breaks himself off as the shopkeep reminds his friend of the price. “But are you sure she’ll _like_ it? It is rather expensive, after all...wouldn’t she be worried?”

Though Alphinaud does not think it to be _that_ much of a money sink...he can attest that his love _would_ probably be rather critical of the cost involved. Pursing his lips slightly, he looks away from the diamond lilies. “I suppose you are correct...”

He looks instead toward a series of delicately cut roses, pale and translucent. The price for these is substantially less.

“What about these ones...?”

When he walks out of the store a few minutes later, box neatly wrapped and tied and deposited into a white nondescript bag, he feels quite pleased with himself. Haurchefant had kept up his attempts to dissuade him, though to no avail; this bouquet _was_ , after all, far less expensive than the other alternative. And roses are very romantic. Not to mention _these_ particular flowers are eternal.

Illya might gripe about it, but she shouldn’t be displeased, he thinks.

The girls -- or Laurelis, rather -- have already finished making their new purchases by the time they return to the clothing store, the miqo’te excitedly chattering to her friend about the fine points of matching colours and accents.

________ 

The restaurant is filled with the sound of soft music and the laughter of children and the other patrons. Their shopping has been deposited in the trunk of Haurchefant’s car -- box of crystal roses included, which Illya miraculously did not notice.

Or perhaps chose not to bring up in front of their friends.

“What are you getting, Illya?” Laurelis asks with a mild quirk of her lips as she flips through her menu. Her expression is furrowed slightly in characteristic indecision, before it lightens. “I think I’m getting one of the burgers...”

“Um...” Illya trails off a moment as she finishes coming to her own decision. “The piping hot chicken wings, I think...”

“Ah -- I-I see...what about you, Haurchefant, Alphinaud?”

Alphinaud shuts his menu before he responds. “I’ll probably just get a coffee and a salad.” He’s typically not too hungry by lunchtime -- even with the walking they’d been doing earlier.

“I’ll likely be getting one of the burgers myself,” comes Haurchefant’s reply, closing his own menu.

It doesn’t take too long for their orders to finally arrive, or perhaps it only feels that way with the light, jovial chatter. Laurelis’ fashion classes are going well, as are Haurchefant’s English courses, and Illya’s shop is of course proceeding swimmingly. The conversation ceases for only a moment as the pink-haired woman fishes out her cellphone.

“I have to take pictures!” she announces. “If -- well, if that’s okay with everyone, at least.” Somehow, she always manages to make the food look even more appetising than it already is in her snapshots.

The wings on Illya’s plate are steaming, the scent of spice nearly overpowering the smell of Laurelis and Haurchefant’s burgers across the table. Alphinaud eyes the lalafell’s meal warily, keeping to his plain and boring salad.

“Oh, may I try one, Illya? They look quite good.” Haurchefant asks. Laurelis’ head nearly whips clean off her shoulders as she looks up to stare at him in what can only be described as abject pity, mouth agape.

“O-of course,” Illya murmurs, gently pushing her plate forward. The silver-haired man reaches to pluck one of the wings off her plate, lifting it to his mouth. He’s hardly even licked it when his eyebrows furrow slightly in consternation.

The brave man does, in fact, manage to take a bite -- and perhaps, it seems, even swallow it, though Alphinaud feels rather too terrified to actually get a good look at his facial expression.

“Well -- that was -- very good...I, ah -- excuse me...”

Laurelis politely slides out of the booth to allow the taller elezen to shift past her, and Alphinaud continues to wonder how he simply doesn’t _sprint_ to the nearest washroom.

“I-is Haurchefant all right...?” Illya asks with wide, violet eyes. Her best friend gives a faint laugh, waving a hand gently.

“Oh, he’ll be fine! I-I think I felt his phone vibrating in his pocket, he m-must have gotten a call or something!”

“I hope it wasn’t anything serious...”

Their final group member returns a few minutes later, though he does not ask to partake in Illya’s dish again, and assures them that everything had gone well with his _call_.

________ 

Alphinaud feels a little bad for Haurchefant driving him home, but the older elezen had insisted.

“There’s nothing wrong with friends dropping friends off, is there? You don’t need to take your fancy driver everywhere.”

And Laurelis doesn’t even use a driver despite it well being within her means to. For some ungodly reason, she prefers to walk.

“I can take you home, Illya, if you don’t mind,” Alphinaud says before he steps out of the car. “I have something I’d like to talk to you about, too.”

The lalafellin girl looks a little confused as she blinks up at him. “Talk...?”

“Yes! So -- we can take your shopping to my apartment, right?”

“Oh, sure!” Laurelis wheedles her way into the conversation. “I can help you carry everything up! There’s...a lot, ahah...”

“I’ll help, too.” Haurchefant’s smile is easy and light. “I think you’ll need it.”

Alphinaud staunchly pretends he has not an inkling of what the older man could possibly be talking about, the crystal bouquet weighing heavier than any mountain of shoes possibly could. He only hopes she’ll like them.


End file.
